


Until the Last Petal Falls

by sweetfayetanner



Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst, F/M, Romance, We were deprived of shirtless Adam and I just can't stand for that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 00:54:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10776078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetfayetanner/pseuds/sweetfayetanner
Summary: She watches her tears fall, catching the moonlight that douses them both before they land on his shirt. Belle’s hands cover one of his large paws, clutching it as if it would keep in the warmth that’s slowly leaving him, as if her touch would help him find his way back to her.Belle cannot imagine a world without him.





	Until the Last Petal Falls

**Author's Note:**

> So, apparently there's a version of the ending that exists where Adam rises from a bed of rose petals shirtless. I hope it's going to be on the DVD, but in the meantime, I decided to write it in fic form. Hope you enjoy.

When his last breath leaves him, Belle feels her heart shatter. Her body wilts like the rose she knows has shed its last petal, the ache in her chest too much to bear alone. But here she is, utterly alone in the empty tower of the West Wing, icy wind and snowflakes curling around her, pleading for him to return. Belle’s voice echoes over the howling gale that slips through the broken windows. His eyes, so bright and blue and once full of life, are no longer focused on her.

_Please come back. Come back…_

She watches her tears fall, catching the moonlight that douses them both before they land on his shirt. Belle’s hands cover one of his large paws, clutching it as if it would keep in the warmth that’s slowly leaving him, as if her touch would help him find his way back to her.

_Please don’t leave me._

Belle cannot imagine a world without him. _Adam._ He’d given her his name one day in the library when she’d asked. In her thoughts she had not called him _Beast_ since. He wasn’t one. Not anymore.

Her soulmate. Her equal. Her friend.

Once their eyes met, as her name resonated between them over the rooftops, Belle imagined for a fleeting moment what their life would be like. What _he_ would be like, once returned to his human form. Afternoons in the library drenched in golden sunlight. Miles of countryside and wondrous foreign lands to explore together. Rainy mornings curled up in bed, reciting their favorite sonnets. Chasing after their children through the gardens, laughter turning this dark and decrepit castle into a beacon of hope and love.

Belle loves him—that feeling is stronger than the ache of loss weighing down her heart. She tells him so, those three words filling up the silence, lingering in the air. Belle doesn’t know if anyone will hear it. It’s too late, after all. If she would have told him moments before Gaston’s fatal shots, would it have mattered? Would he have been spared?

She leaves a kiss on his forehead, then collapses onto his chest, her fingers grasping at his shirt. She cannot bear to leave him, not like this. Her quiet, broken sobs are muffled by Adam’s body, Belle’s shoulders trembling with every shuddering breath.

She’s not sure how long she’s been in the tower alone when the warmth returns to him. At first, Belle thinks she’s dreamed it, thinks maybe her crying lulled her to sleep. Reluctantly, she pulls herself away from Adam, radiant sunlight coiling around them both. Her eyes wide in fear and awe, Belle moves out of the ethereal glow that has taken Adam in its grasp. The wind swells, playing with her hair, carrying hundreds of rose petals along with it. She watches them swirl around Adam’s motionless body as he rises from the floor, feels them settle in her hair and onto her petticoats. The light is almost intolerably bright, but Belle cannot look away. She narrows her eyes, trying to find him in the burst of sunlight. The fragrant scent of roses engulfs her senses, the last of her tears drying on her cheeks.

Adam’s shirt, torn from Gaston’s bullets, lands in a heap inches from where Belle is sitting on her knees. His body follows, gently laid out on the stone floor once the light is extinguished. The rose petals, no longer at the mercy of the wind, float downward to cover them both in a sea of velvety crimson. Belle blinks, adjusting to the darkened room, and lets out a small gasp, her hand pressed to her lips.

He’s _human_.

Belle hesitates, until she sees the rise and fall of his chest disturb some of the rose petals. The weight on her heart lifts for the first time in what feels like forever. He stirs, and she watches him, transfixed, unable to move despite her heart telling her to. Rose petals shift and tumble while Adam sits up, slowly revealing his human form. He stares at his hands, turning them over, his mouth agape. He finally rises from the floor on unsteady legs, taking a moment to find his balance.

She can’t keep her eyes off him. He’s magnificent, standing before her in nothing but a pair of tattered blue breeches, rose petals still clinging to him here and there. His hair is slightly windswept. Adam finds her, at last. His gaze is soft, so full of love and light, when he extends a hand out to her. This time Belle doesn’t hesitate. Her hand slips into his like it’s always meant to be there, and she revels in the feeling of his warm fingers laced with hers.

Adam eases her off the floor, carefully. He’s closer to her reach, but still unsure on his feet. When he sways again, Belle grabs his other arm, offering him a solid presence to help him keep steady. She lets go of his hand to cup the side of his face. His eyes are blue—that same enchanting, clear blue they’ve always been. It’s in that moment that she realizes he _has_ returned to her, _alive_ and real and human again. She brushes strands of dark blond hair out of his face, smiling as he takes the end of her hair between his fingers. When he brushes his thumb across her cheek, she leans into his touch, aching to drown in as much of it as she can, afraid that this is all a dream.

Belle rests her forehead against his and breathes in the scent of rose petals. Adam’s hand settles on her waist, and instinctively, she is drawn against his chest. Her hands settle there between them, palms flat against his bare skin. Belle feels his breath hitch when her hands wander across the lean muscles of his abdomen. Her curiosity is intimate, beyond the realm of propriety, but Adam doesn’t seem to mind. She can’t get enough of the sight of him, of the muscle and sinew and dusting of light hair that she traces with her fingers. He’s beautiful beyond words. Belle’s eyes water again when she feels his heartbeat underneath her palm, thankful that the broken spell spared his life. She wants to stay here for as long as possible. She wants this moment to last forever.  

Adam’s breath is warm on her skin, his voice a whisper in her ear. “I love you, Belle.”

Belle’s eyes flutter closed—she’s smiling when he kisses her, taking her face gently in his hands. She lets everything else fall away, lost in their kiss and the aroma of rose petals.


End file.
